The Inexplicable Ramblings of a Working Witch
by Hairy Horklump
Summary: Ella Louise Coote has been offered the job she dreamed of and life after school's looking up. But the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament are fast approaching, and with them, complications...
1. NEWTs, glorious NEWTs

**(A/N) Erm, anything you recognise is JK Rowling's, of course. This is also my first fanfic, so I'm uber-nervous, and would much appreciate it if you could review? Just added a little bit onto the end of this, it introduces a couple of things and it didn't really fit anywhere else.**

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I was running through fields of gold, my arms thrown out, embracing the hazy sunshine, perfect temperature and ambiance. What a blissful life I led. At the other end of the field stood Michael Summerby, Chaser of the Wasps and the England national team in all his chiselled Adonis glory. He began running to me, arms inviting me in, calling my name...

"... Miss Coote?"

Damn. If there was anyone that wasn't Michael Summerby, it was Severus Snape. And he looked like Christmas had come early. This was not good. I had already had six detentions with him this year, one more and I may as well ditch my hopes at the Ministry and start an internship with Mundungus Fletcher. I looked around at Oliver, panicked. He mouthed something back at me. I shook my head desperately, and mimed writing something down. He rolled his eyes.

"Miss Coote!"

I smiled at him as sweetly as I could; given the man was a torturous old bat.

"The answer, Miss Coote, would be much appreciated. Especially sometime today." He sneered back, twisting his nasty little mouth into a predatory grin. Eugh. I kept my gob shut. In moments such as these, it was wise not to reply, as I had learnt the hard way.

"If this question stumps you so, might I suggest rethinking the career at the Ministry? Your lack of understanding of the _basics_ of poisons and antidotes, which you should have learnt _six years ago_, does cast some light on your mental ability, does it not?" he sneered, and turned his attention back to the board.

"Bezoars." I stated calmly. The suspense was thrilling. Snape froze, in the middle of waving his wand. He cocked his head to the side and slowly swivelled round to look at me, his eyes blazing.

"What did you say?" he bit out, his lips curling over his teeth. He strode over to my desk and bent over me, so that his face was directly above mine. I had to give it to him; the man had his intimidation techniques down pat.

"Bezoars?" I squeaked. It was now hurting my neck to make eye contact with him, so I looked past at the rest of their class. They sat crouching back against each other, leaning as far away from Snape as possible. It had been a while since he got this angry. Laura Branstone from Hufflepuff looked as though she was about to cry.

The shadow looming above me moved, and I found him staring down at my best friend, who was quaking with fear.

"Wood, would you care to cast some light on the situation?"

Oliver took a deep breath, composing himself and opened his mouth. A feeble whimper came out. Flint and Higgs, who usually spaced out in these kinds of situations, began laughing, only to be given the 'Severus Snape: Serial Killer' look.

"Coote, Wood, twenty points from Gryffindor." He glared down at me. "Each." He whipped around, his black robes flapping behind him, and made his way back to the front of the classroom.

Well, that was better than was expected. Oliver didn't agree.

"Oh, come on, I fell asleep. I'm lucky I'm not on the Hogwarts Express right now!" I said, dodging a couple of first years as we made our way down the corridor. Oliver rounded on me, glaring.

"I know! Seriously, Ella, you can't keep sleeping in his class. NEWTs are a couple of weeks away. Literally! The Charms practical is in twelve days! Days, Ella!" he shook my shoulders.

"I've been accepted into the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and you've got Puddlemere. We just need a pass in Potions and we'll walk in. A pass, Ollie!" I cried, shaking his shoulders. "We can do that. _I_ can do that." We continued along the corridor toward the Great Hall.

"I know you can do that. You could get an O if you tried. I just don't want you to fail your NEWTs and end up eating the cockroaches on Knockturn Alley for breakfast lunch and dinner!" The man was insane.

"Ew. Why would you do that?" a small voice asked from my elbow. My little brother was walking behind us, looking bewildered and slightly disgusted.

"I'm not going to do that." I sighed. "Ollie here is just being a moron." The moron glared at me.

"No, he's not. Oliver's cool. Hiya, Oliver!" Ritchie beamed. I rolled my eyes. Ritchie had hero-worshipped Oliver since he was five years old, and had practically stalked him in his first two weeks at Hogwarts. Oliver, being Oliver, lapped up this sort of attention.

"Ritchie!" he grinned and they knocked knuckles, entering into what must be one of the most imaginative and long handshakes ever conceived. In the middle of the Entrance Hall. As people pointed and laughed at the three of us. Wonderful. Finally, they finished, and Ritchie began to root around in his bag. He produced a small parcel and a letter, and held them out to me.

"What's this?" I asked, pulling the brown paper off the parcel.

"Muggle sweets from Great-Grandma, I think she made them herself." replied Ritchie, eyeing the fudge distastefully. That was worrying. Great-Grandma was ninety-seven years old and almost completely blind. "I think she put gravel instead of sugar."

"Right." Oliver and I peered at the offensive brown squares. "Well, thanks. I'll, erm, see what I can do with them. Don't forget to write a thank you letter." I reminded him.

Ritchie grinned. "Already done, sis. And that's a letter from Mum. I got one too, but I haven't read it yet."

"Great, thanks, Ritchie." I smiled.

"Welcome. You owe me two Butterbeers, yeah?" At my nod, he waved and ran into the Great Hall to find his friends.

"You use him as a postal service and pay him in drinks?" Oliver questioned, chuckling. I shrugged.

"He can't go to Hogsmeade, and I can't be bothered to get up early enough for the post." I replied. "It's win-win."

We approached the Gryffindor table, sat down, and in silence, piled our plates high with roast potatoes, pasta and salad, and ate. Once the feeling of starvation had abated somewhat, I fished the letter from Mum out of the pocket I had stuffed it into and cracked open the wax sealing the parchment shut.

_Dear Ella, _it read.

_I hope everything's going well, darling. We haven't heard from Professor McGonagall in a while, so I'm assuming you haven't got many detentions from Professor Snape recently. That's a relief. I'm sure you've been revising hard for your exams, so I'm not going to patronise you by going on about that, but you're doing so well, dear. It would be a shame if you let things slide and you didn't get what you've worked hard to achieve._

_ Right, I'm coming to the good bit now. Jem and Lea came home for lunch on Sunday with the most wonderful news! They're having a baby! Can you believe it? Your Dad and I are so excited, and you brothers will all be Aunt and Uncles. She's due in December, so it's a little too early to know whether it's a boy or girl yet, but they're hoping to find out soon. They'll probably know more by the time you and Ritchie break for the summer. I'll let you know as anything comes up, of course, but you'll be home in about three weeks anyway. All the boys are coming home in August, for the World Cup._

_Anyway, I'd better write to Ritchie and let him know._

_Love you, darling, _

_Mum_

_P.S. I think Great-Grandma Lester sent you some fudge. Do be careful when you eat it, will you? Dad chipped a tooth._

That was not expected. Jem was my eldest brother, the first of six, including me and Ritchie, and he had been married to Lea for a year now. I guess it wasn't too shocking; with five brothers, I was pretty much guaranteed to become an aunt sooner or later. I passed the letter over to Oliver, who was looking at me questioningly, and glanced over to Ritchie, who had obviously just finished reading his. He was looking down the table at me, grinning widely. I smiled back.

"Lea's pregnant? That's great! Congratulations, Auntie Ella." Oliver grinned, pulling me into a one-armed hug. He read on. "'All the boys are coming home? All of them?"

"Well, since she wrote 'all', I'm assuming they _all_ are, Oliver." I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not stupid, El. I thought Rob was in Australia?" I nodded. Rob was Jem's twin, and had been in the Australian outback, researching Old Magic, as he called it. Julian was three years younger, at twenty three, and Henry was twenty one.

"I guess he's coming down. Jules, will, of course. He's not exactly going to miss the World Cup, is he? And Henry is such a homebody anyway. Mum's been trying to get rid of him for years."

"I can't wait for the World Cup!" squealed Oliver. I laughed.

"Just don't take it too seriously, yeah? I don't need to have you mooning around after England get knocked out in the heats."

"England are not going to get knocked out in the heats." He growled.

"Oh, of course they are. Only Greg O'Hare's any good, and you can't win a game with one decent Chaser."

"Ricky Peasegood-" he began.

"Is inconsistent. And doesn't perform well under pressure." I finished.

"Fair enough." he paused. This was new. Oliver Wood never let up, on anything, and Quidditch was especially serious business. When the Gryffindor team were approaching the finals of the Cup, poor little Harry Potter looked as white a sheet for about three weeks, and I was pretty sure the entire team was avoiding their captain whenever possible.

"I'm now supporting Ireland." he announced. Of course he was.

* * *

Before we knew it, the NEWTs were upon us like a bad case of dragon pox. It was unpleasant and nasty, but you only had to go through it once. I had taken seven subjects, each with two exams; of which I had done eight.

Tomorrow was Potions theory and Ancient Runes, both of which would be dreadful. I could work my bum off if I was so inclined, it wouldn't make any difference. Nothing would go in. Nada. I closed the fat, hardback book and began to hit myself on the head with it, willing something to go in and stay there.

"Merlin, get a hold of yourself. You'll knock your skull in." Oliver grabbed the book and chucked it to the other side of the fireplace.

"Good, then at least I would have never finished a Potions NEWT for them to give my grieving parents my grade." I wailed, collapsing on the rug in the common room. Oliver glared at me.

"Don't be so morbid, child. Pick up that Runes book if Potions is so terrible."

"No, it's depressing." I sulked. Oliver looked me exasperatedly.

"What do you want me to do about it, Ella? You have to revise. Or do you want me to read you a Beedle the Bard tale?"

"Don't patronise me, Wood." I warned. He had the audacity to laugh at me. Percy Weasley, the only other person left in the common room, glared at him from a window seat.

"And what are you going to do about it, Coote? Look at you, sprawled out on the rug in your furry pink slippers and bunny pyjamas." He had a point. I certainly didn't look too threatening in my current  
situation, especially with my short brown hair sticking up in all directions.

"Sod this," I said, standing up. " I'll wake up early and revise."

"No, you won't." he looked at me from where he sat cross-legged on the floor.

"Yes, I will." I flounced towards the stairs leading to the dormitory. Pausing, I sheepishly retraced my steps back to the fireplace, where  
Oliver stood grinning, holding out my books. Murmuring a thanks, I held them to my chest and stalked back towards the stairs.

"Smooth, Ella." he called.

I turned back from my position on the second stair and shot him a sarcastic grin and my middle finger. "Good night, Oliver."

"Oh for heaven's sake," cried Percy from the window. "Are you leaving or not?" he demanded.

I glared at him and continued up the stairs. To be honest, I'd be glad to never Percy again once we left school. I'd heard he was up for a  
place in the Ministry too, but hopefully we'd keep out of each other's way.

Reaching the top of the stairs, I pushed open the door to the seventh year girls' dormitory.

"Ella!" cried Edie Jenner, throwing herself at me, and using me as a shield. "Tell Audrey to stop chasing me."

I looked at her. "What did you do this time? Use her shampoo or her hairbrush?"

"Shampoo," snarled Audrey, advancing from the bathroom, wet hair slapping her face. Honestly, she looked like the lovechild of Hades and a Fury. It was terrifiying and, to be fair, Gryffindor or not, it really wasn't my problem.

"Sorry, mate. You're on your own." I dodged out of the way just as Audrey lunged. With a shriek, Edie lept onto a bed, pulled close the drapes and cast an Impenetrable Charm on them.

"Fine, you can stay there! You're going to have to come out for Potions in the morning!" Audrey yelled at the drapes.

"Oi, don't tell her she can stay in there! That's my bed..." sighed Holly, looking ruefully at the drapes. She had been going through her trunk and had realised too late what was going on.

I caught Lisa's eye as I made my way over to my bed. Dropping the books on the bedside table, I jumped into bed and pulled the covers up, relishing the immeadiate feeling of comfort. Lisa, who was in bed with her Runes textbook, rolled her eyes at me.

"They've been at it since eight. Five bloody hours of this," she flapped her hands between the beds opposite, "since Audrey got out of  
the shower and realised that her shampoo bottle only had a third left in it."

"This is nothing. Julian and Robert, my brothers, borrowed Jeremy's Cleansweep to go play and broke it by accident. He was about thirteen, and had just made it onto the house team. He went on such a rampage, they ended up hiding out with our Muggle grandparents for three weeks." Lisa looked aghast. To be fair, it didn't take much for her to do that. Even the slightest whif of scandal or gossip sent her reeling.

"Julian? Is he still playing for the Magpies?" Audrey sighed dreamily. Eugh. Audrey Cavendish had a thing for 'older men' and guys who played sports, which would have been fine because I did too to some extent, but the object of her affections happened to be my brother. I had spent the last six years fervently hoping it was just a passing phase, which had simply never passed. I shot her a withering glance.

"Yes, and his girlfriend, Fran, plays for the Harpies." I snapped, feeling guilty immeadiately afterwards. I didn't mean to sound like such a hormonal nutcase, I was just tired, and stressed and I hadn't revised for bloody Potions. "I'm sorry," I sighed. "I'm just really tired. I'll probably get up to revise for Potions as well, so I'd better go to bed."

Lisa nodded. "It's almost two in the morning, and we all have Potions in the morning." I pulled out my alarm clock, sent from my Muggle-born Mum's side of the family, and pressed down a little button at the back. Damn piece of plastic had better not fail me now.

It did, and I overslept the next morning. Oliver nearly had an anuerysm when I told him. He was almost as worried about the whole thing as Percy, who seriously looked like he'd rather give birth to an Arcomantula than sit another exam. But it went better than I thought it would, or hoped it would. I hadn't bothered to revise poisonous spotted plants, and they hadn't even come up, so maybe I would get by. I would just have to wait for the results.

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**Plus, and I'm not sure if I'm allowed to ask this, but I would love a beta? Please respond if you would like to do it? Thanks :)**


	2. Brothers, Chairs and Nicky Blue Eyes

**Chapter 2!**

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"Mum, where's my Beater's bat?"

"Under the shelf in the shed, Henry!"

"MUM! Where's my spells book?"

"MUUUUUUM, WHICH COFFEE'S MINE?"

"JEREMY, DONT SHOUT!"

"Mum, where's Dad?"

I turned in the bed, pressing my face into the pillow. Yes, I was trying to smother myself. The boys, save Jules, had been back for around three days. Three days of shouts, screams, utter chaos and poor Lea rocking back and forth, asking me whether this would be her life if she had a son.

Lea and I had taken to hiding out in the tree house Dad had built for Jem and Rob when they were about eight or nine, and Mum joined us every once in a while.

"Ella, are you up?" called Lea, hammering at the door. "I thought we'd start on Italian today?" Lea had been _absolument fantastique_. As the Department of International Magical Cooperation demanded some competency in key foreign languages, she decided to coach me in French, German and Italian in the few weeks she would be here. As she was from the Switzerland, where they were all official languages, she was fluent, and it was proving to be a great help. The only problem was, she believed that education was a dish best served in the morning, and woke me up at half seven. I couldn't even complain, all the Coote boys were early risers. It was just me. I dug my face into my pillow.

"Ella, you'd better be decent! I'm coming in!" she yelled, pushing down the handle and opening the door. On the other hand, maybe I was glad I didn't have sisters. The boys weren't allowed to do this.

I turned my face away from the pillow surreptitiously, watching as she pulled open the curtains. Satisfied, she stepped back to let the sunshine stream straight onto my face. I pretended to be asleep."

"Honestly, Ella, get your bum out of bed. Everyone else's been up for hours." She might be worried about turning into Mum if she had a son, but Lea fit right into the family already. She had gone to Hogwarts with Rob and Jem, and had known me since I was about three, which generally didn't work in my favour.

"I know you're not asleep, and I know you know I know you're not asleep." I snorted, and she pounced. "Aha! You're not asleep! Come on, out. Don't you teach my firstborn bad habits like these." She waggled a finger at me. The woman was two months pregnant. The baby had barely developed a brain let alone the ability to pickup bad habits from a wayward Aunt.

"Fine. You win. We'll start at nine today, after breakfast." she stood there for a second, as if wondering whether this would entice me out of bed. It didn't, and she left chuckling.

I opened an eye to see if the coast was clear, and pulled myself out of bed. I padded over to my table, where Snidget, my crazy little owl, had deposited a letter the night before, which I hadn't bothered to read. Yawning, I flipped over the parchment to see who it was from. Ah, Oliver. Eh, it could wait till I went to the bathroom.

I put it back on the desk and shuffled over to the door, wondering why he had sent and owl to me the night before. I had seen him yesterday... And then it hit me. He had them! How he managed to get so many so late, I didn't know, but he had them, and he was wonderful. I scrambled over to desk and ripped open the parchment, frozen in awe as eight tickets to the World Cup final landed on my desk. And then I squealed. So loudly, the whole family thundered into my bedroom.

"Ella, what's wrong?" asked Rob. Still squealing, I waved the tickets at him. Henry reached out and plucked one out.

"Merlin's shorts! They're tickets to the final!" There was a roar as Dad, Jem, Lea, Rob and Ritchie descended on me. Mum stayed back, looking bemused. After twenty six years of raising us, she had learnt to let manners slide in moments like this, especially since her spouse usually joined in.

"Did you get these?" asked Jem. Jules had managed to pull some strings at his team, the Montrose Magpies, and get us tickets for the England and Ireland matches, but we'd been trying to get hold of the finals for months. Luckily, Oliver's dad, was in the committee that had organised the games.

Henry eyed me shrewdly. "Did _Ollie_ get them for us?" he asked, innocently. Rob's eyes lit up.

"Ollie? How _is_ Ollie? Are you still friends?" he shrieked.

"Yes," I replied testily. "Oliver and I are friends."

"_Just_ friends? Like Lea and I were _just_ friends?" asked Jem, his arm around his wife's waist.

"No," I gritted my teeth. On second thought, sisters would have been lovely, thank you. "We are friends, and if you have a problem with that, you can give me my damn tickets back."

"Oh, boys, don't tease her. She's obviously sensitive about the issue." said Lea, chortling. I growled, and stormed to the bathroom. Another three weeks of this lay ahead of me. Oh joy.

I walked into the kitchen about ten minutes later, cursing myself for sleeping in so late. All the food would have been eaten by now. I found two slices of granary bread, which nobody usually touched, toasted them with a warming charm, and started to eat it. Suddenly, Mum burst into the kitchen, brandishing a letter.

"A Hogwarts owl just delivered this." she cried, placing it on the table and stepping back. The two of us stood, watching it for a few minutes. It did nothing. "Well, open it!" I picked it up with my fingertips gingerly. "Howard! Ella's results have arrived!" she called up the stairs. Dad came thumping down the stairs, closely followed by the rest of the family. They all squeezed into the kitchen and looked at me expectantly.

I hesitantly broke open the seal, and pulled the piece of parchment out. _La moment de la verité_. I unfolded it and read the first line.

_Transfiguration O_

This wasn't so bad. I read on.

_Defence E  
_  
This really was a pleasant surprise. I was dreadful at defence. The only reason I'd been scraping a good pass all year was because of Professor Lupin, bless him.

_Herbology O  
Charms O  
Potions E  
Arithmancy O  
Ancient Runes E  
_  
An E in Potions? This was unbelievable! I had done it; I was going to the Department of International Magical Cooperation! I had a job, a career. I was Ella Louise Coote, working witch extraordinaire. The letter and congratulations were duly passed round, and I happily relented to three headlocks. Mum was in tears.

"Oh Ella," she wailed, smoothing down my short brown bob. "I'm so proud of you!" She crushed me to chest, sobbing. It took Dad and Jem's help to get out of her grasp, but it was duly managed, although she did give me a huge crick in my neck. Best not to tell her that though.

An owl came from Jules in the next few hours; he was on his way and he was bringing a friend. Jules tended to be regarded as the 'cool' one in our family, but his friends were usually Quidditch obsessed wackos. And I don't mean that they were simply die hard fans like half the boys at Hogwarts; these guys lived and breathed Quidditch. All of them played it, and unfortunately, the thing about British Quidditch players was that pretty much all of them were big, hulking, ogres. Apart from Summerby, but there were always exceptions to the rule, weren't there? I tended to favour the more intellectual types, hence an embarrassing but short lived 'thing' for Percy Weasley in second year. Looking at him, I can't believe I ever liked such a ponce, but anyway, I digress.

Considering company was on its way, Mum reckoned I should at least make the effort of looking presentable, so I went upstairs, penned a quick letter to Oliver and donned a robe, and returned to help Henry carry chairs into the garden. My mother had, apparently decided that the results and the return of her prodigal son were cause enough to celebrate with a picnic. The rest of us would have agreed with her, if it hadn't meant extra chores for all of us, except Lea, who was forbidden to lift a finger.

"Henry, hold the door open, will you?" I yelled, pressed up against the door. The two of us were in the tiny utility room (which my mother had insisted we have, despite the fact that we have nothing to utilise it with), quite literally boxed in by the doors and the six chairs hovering above us.

"Don't shout, you twit! I'm right behind you."

"Well, hold the door open, then!"

"I would if you moved!" He snapped. "Mind your wand, your chair leg's poking me in the eye!"

"I can't bloody move, idiot! If you held the door open, then I could have moved out." I glared at him, raising my wand a little higher. I was getting seriously annoyed. Suddenly the door to the garden opened and I went flying into the garden, landing on the person who had opened it.

"Oof." he grunted. Two blue eyes flicked open and crinkled at the corners when they met mine. "Ella? Ella! Do you remember me? Nick Adams?"

Oh no. No, no, no, no, _no_. Of all the people... Oh Merlin and Morgana. Oh _crap_. I landed on top of _him_. On _top_ of Nicholas Adams. I stopped breathing. Nick Adams, Jules' and Henry's friend from Hogwarts, Head Boy, Gryffindor Beater, and owner of one of the most beautiful faces to ever grace the corridors of Hogwarts. I gawped.

"Er, Ella? Would you mind getting off? Please? I think my arm's falling asleep." he asked tentatively. I looked down. His hand was going white where my elbow dug into it, cutting off the blood circulation to his lower arm. I was such a dunce. Why did I do these things? I eased my elbow off his arm and rolled off him and stood up. Could this get any worse?

"Nick! How's it going old man?" Henry cried, stepping through into the garden, and greeting Nick. "Has Ella finished feeling you up?" Of course it could. Face burning; I picked up the chairs that had crashed to the ground.

"I'm only a year older than you, fool." Nick laughed as he picked himself up and dusted off his robes.

One of the chair legs had fallen off and snapped in half; I looked around for my wand, which I had dropped when I had fallen.

"_Reparo_." I turned around. Nick smiled at me, his wand in the air and mine in this other hand. "Here you go." he said, offering it.

"Thanks," I said, pocketing it. I moved to let Henry pass, his chairs still hovering some metres above him.

He stooped and picked up a chair, waving me off when I offered to take it and began to walk to the tables at the end of the garden. "You've just finished your NEWTs, haven't you? How did they go?" looking impressed after I told him, he continued, "Congratulations! So what do you want to do now?"

"I've got an offer from the Department of International Magical Cooperation, with the Office of Law." We set down the chairs at the table. He looked at me.

"Really? We'll probably be seeing a lot more of each other in the coming year then." I looked at him questioningly. "I'm with the Department of Magical Games and Sport." he explained.

"You mean with the World Cup? I guess so, but I'm not going to be too involved with that, I reckon. I only start a week before it begins."

"No, I meant..." he tailed off, looking at me curiously. I blinked back. "How about I let you find out?" he winked roguishly.

"Why, is there something else happening?" I asked, taking a seat. Without missing a beat, he dropped into the seat next to me. Oh hell, now I'll be too nervous to eat.

"Oh yeah. But I can't tell you. Highly classified information, you know." he grinned.

"Ella!" a voice called from behind us.

"Jules!" I jumped up and was crushed in a bear hug.

"Jules!" Ritchie came flying down the garden and threw himself on our brother's back, wrapping his arms around his neck. "Did you bring me a present?"

Jules laughed. "Sweets and a signed England poster. And I've got that pair of Omnioculars that you wanted, El."

"Cheers." I grinned. This was why Jules was the favourite brother. The rest of the family had come down and were taking their seats around the table.

Mum set a vat of pumpkin soup down on the table, and began to pass around the mashed potatoes. I took my seat next to Nick, and he smiled at me.

"How's your mother, Nicholas? Is she well?" asked Mum.

"She's fine. I think she was actually wondering whether you'd be interested in coming over sometime, Mrs Coote. She's got some new powered dragon egg shells she thinks you might be interested in."

"Oh, wonderful." Mum smiled at him.

"Are you going to be working at the World Cup, Nick? Alex and the rest of the old team were thinking of maybe meeting up for a match?"

And so the conversation went on. Nick would be working throughout the World Cup, and would be ridiculously busy next year due to the thing I didn't know about but would apparently find out about soon. Lea was congratulated, and scolded for trying to pick up the tureen of soup. I was desperately trying not to make a fool of myself and Ritchie was caught feeding half his lunch to the garden gnomes.

"RITCHIE!" roared Mum, purple in the face. "That's it, young man. That is the _last_ straw. _You_ can degnome the garden from now on. On your _own_." Ritchie didn't look too bothered. Mum's bark was much worse than her bite and if Ritchie went up to her, snivelling, sometime in the next few hours, all would be forgotten. He was her baby after all.

As the boys helped to clear the table, Mum, Lea and I made a massive strawberry trifle together. I picked up the large bowl to take it into the garden and asked Lea to go ahead of me and hold open the door. Oh yes, I learnt from my mistakes. Last thing I wanted to do was to empty a bowl of fruit and custard on Nick's head, but when we finally made it into the garden, Nick was shrugging his cloak over his shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I really have to go. Things are manic at work with the World Cup approaching and Ludo Bagman's going slightly crazy as well." He apologised.

"Bagman? The one who played for the Wasps and got into all those debts?" Dad asked disapprovingly. "He's the head of your department, isn't he?" Despite being an Auror trainer, Dad disapproved of the workings of the Ministry. Too much 'influence' and corruption ran rampant, he said. Something had to be done.

Nick nodded. "He might be tempted to gamble, you see? And it won't look good at all, considering he's directly responsible for the organization of the World Cup. Besides, there's also a crisis brewing with Bulgaria. They want to bring Veelas as their mascots, which would be a problem in itself, but France have heard, and they want to bring their own now."

Rob sniggered and got a glare from Mum for his trouble.

"Well, it was lovely to have you Nicholas." Mum smiled. "Give my love your parents, and tell your mum that I'd love to come over and look at the shells."

"Thank you for having me, Mrs Coote." He smiled back and then looked at me. "I hope we'll see each other soon." Now I was confused. Was he talking to me? He looked at me, but it was almost as if he was addressing everyone else. As I watched him walk through the side gate in the garden so he could Apparate, I couldn't help listening to the little voice in my head that was telling me it was the first. Especially when he turned around and smiled at me.

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**Please review? Thank you!**


	3. Heigh ho, its off to work we go

**Chapter 3, and Oliver's back!**

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_I struggled against my own body, lying there on the chair. Why did Mum insist on taking me to see a Muggle dentist every summer? It was pointless. This one was sheer evil and looked exactly like Snape. Why, he even had a hooked nose. I looked at his profile as he began to turn to me in slow motion. A strand of greasy black hair fell against his cheek; I winced in disgust and shuddered. __"Miss Coote," he sneered, "your lack of oral hygiene goes to show that you have the mental capacity of a four year old. I'm going to have to take out-" He turned to face me completely. "_All_ your teeth," he said. I struggled even more. He cackled loudly and raised his arms to the skies, looking up. The room went dark, lightning and stormy clouds swirling above his head like some twisted halo. He reached out and plucked out a bolt of lighting, and held it over my head like a dagger. "Now, open wide, my pretty."_

_The bolt of lightning got closer and closer to my face and I closed my eyes at the blinding light, but soon it became uncomfortable through my eyelids. It was ridiculously bright, brighter than any lighting; it was like the sun..._

My eyes snapped open. I was in my room, a ray of blinding sunlight shining through the curtains and directly onto my face. I wriggled under the duvet and turned to face the other side. Ah, _much_ better. That was the last time I ate cheese before bed; I hadn't realized cheese-dreams actually existed.

I yawned and stretched, my arm hitting my alarm clock as I did so. There was a click, and the little plastic case began to make a loud, ringing noise. I plugged my fingers in my ears. Oh sure, it works now, when I'm at home and don't have to get up early, but at Hogwarts... I pulled my fingers out and sat up in bed. The alarm clock was making a racket because I had hit it, it wasn't even magical. I had set an alarm.

I grabbed the clock off the side table and read the date. It was exactly two weeks after results day: the first day at work. Work! I scrambled out of bed and rubbed my eyes. It was six thirty. I had two hours to get there, ready to start. Walking to the window, I threw open the curtains, this time basking in the sunshine, willing it to wake me up. I then padded over to my wardrobe and pulled out a smart set of black robes and a Muggle suit. My stomach rumbled loudly. Oh well, first things first. I wolfed down a plate of scrambled eggs on toasted white bread, courtesy of Mum, who looked as if Christmas had come early.

Running back upstairs, I scooped up my robes and walked towards the bathroom. At the other end of the landing, Ritchie emerged from his room, rubbing his eyes. We looked at each other for a moment, sizing the other up, and made a break for the bathroom. Scrambling through the door, I slammed it shut behind me and twisted close the lock.

"Shame, Rich." I laughed, feeling slightly evil and then slightly guilty. Being the older, larger sibling did have its perks, even if it was only against Ritchie. I felt slightly bad as I heard him thumping up the stairs to the bathroom on the second floor.

Forty five minutes later, I was dressed acceptably for the first day of my new life, even for my mother. My parents stood at the door by me, beaming, Mum dabbing her eyes with Dad's handkerchief every now and them, wailing about how all her babies were growing up. She walked over to me and smoothed down my robes, unclasping and reclasping my robes for the third time in five minutes.

"Be good," she sniffed. "Do us proud." Ritchie sniggered in the background. "Be safe."

"Mum, I'm going to the Ministry of Magic, not dragon-hunting," I mumbled.

She nodded and kissed my cheek. "You won't get lost on your way, will you?"

"Mum, Henry's taking me. I'll be fine." I indicated to my rather annoyed looking brother who was leaning against the front door.

"Alright, Ella. Good luck! Bye!" she called, waving the handkerchief in the air. I stepped out of the door after kissing Dad on the cheek.

"Finally! Come on." Henry beckoned me over to behind the large hedge in our garden, shielding us from the view of any neighbours. "You okay to Apparate, or do you want to do a Side-Along?"

I glared at him. "I've been Apparating for year, Henry. I think I can manage."

"If you say so, baby sister. See you there." He disappeared with a crack.

Concentrating, I did the same, reappearing next to him in the wide, dark and bustling corridor of the Ministry of Magic. There were witches and wizards of all shapes and sizes, about a thousand different doors, purple memos flying in and out of windows and, oddly, a gold fountain right in the middle. Every second, more and more people appeared out of Floo points in the corner, joining the throng. _Now_ I was nervous. I saw Henry watching me, smiling.

"What?"

"You'll be fine, El. This time next week, it'll feel like normal."

"Yeah," I grinned, nodding my head towards a tiny old witch with five or six stuffed rats in various ballet poses attached to her hat. "Sure it will."

He smirked. "That'll be you in sixty years time. You'll fit _right_ in." He poked me in the shoulder. "Come on." He led me to a lift at the side of the fountain. We stepped into the cramped space, and waited for it to move.

"Coote." greeted a large wizard, who got out at the second floor.

"That's Dawlish; he's an Auror on my team." Henry explained.

We got out at the fifth floor. "Right, this is you." He said, as we stepped out into a spacious, white marbled lobby with three golden doors leading in different directions. "Go through the middle door, that's the Office of Law. I'm on the second floor, at the Auror Office, so send me a memo if you need me, I don't need you getting lost."

"I'm not going to get lost, idiot." I said softly, looking around. As much as the guy was annoyed, he was my big brother, and now that I was here, and I hated to admit it, I _really_ didn't want him to leave me.

"You'll be fine, Ellie-Smelly. Promise." He ruffled my hair and waited for the lift to take him back down. Then, he was gone and I was all alone, struck by the silence.

I walked slowly to the door, wincing as my heels made a loud, clacking sound against the marble. I twisted the handle of the heavy door and pushed it open, entering into a waiting room with four white leather sofas.

"Ella?" Percy Weasley got up and stared at me. Oh my Merlin, _why_? Why did Fate want to mock me so?

"Hello, Percy." I forced a smile.

"I didn't know somebody else from our year got this department."

"Neither did I."

"Do you two know each other?" I turned around. A young woman, who I recognised as a Hufflepuff from the year ahead of us was looking between us curiously. She held out her hand.

"Sorry, I'm a bit of a nosy brat." she laughed. "Cecilia Diggory."

"Ella Coote." I replied, shaking it.

"You were in Gryffindor too, weren't you?" she asked. I nodded. Suddenly, the only other door leading out of the room was thrust open, and a tall, severe looking man stepped out.

"Miss Coote, Miss Diggory and Mr. Weatherby, I assume?" he snapped. Percy winced and opened his mouth to correct him.

"Welcome to the Department of International Magical Cooperation," the man cut him off. "My name is Bartemius Crouch; I'm the head of this department, and you will report to me. However, this year is going to be slightly different, so if you will be kind enough to step into my office, I will tell you a little more about what is going to be going on."

He led us back out into the lobby, though a door I hadn't seen before and into an oak-panelled room and swept across it to the large bureau in the corner. "Now, you have all heard of the Triwizard Tournament, I assume?" We all nodded. The tournament had been fairly frequent in the eighteenth century, until they realised that at least one competitor died in each Tournament. "It is taking place at Hogwarts this year. Percy's eyebrows shot up to his hairline and for once, I didn't blame him. The whole thing had been banned some two hundred years ago, after two competitors died in a single Tournament, the younger being only thirteen at the time.

"New regulations have been put into place. The legendary Goblet of Fire," he pulled out a sepia picture and passed it around, "will be charmed by Albus Dumbledore, to ensure that any entrants are over the age of seventeen and are therefore witches and wizards in their own right in all three countries." He flicked his wand to the opposite wall and a large projection screen appeared. Photographs of dragons, merpeople and other creatures began to appear in quick succession.

"The International Association of the Protection of Dragons had agreed to let us use dragons for the first task, providing, of course, that we employ well-qualified trainers, and providing that the dragons themselves are not in danger." He sniffed disdainfully. Picking up his wand, he sifted through the slides again, and froze the screen at a picture of a mermaid. "The merpeople of the Hogwarts Black Lake have also agreed to lend us their services if need be."

He walked in front of the screen and switched the projected off with a swish of his wand. "Now, all three of you will be working on this with Mabel Hopkirk. You will be in charge of negotiations. If problems should arise between the delegations, _you_," he pointed at us, "_will_ sort them out. You are also responsible for working with international trainers and designers of tasks. I don't want to hear about anyone not being able to enter this country because their papers are not in order; that is _your_ job. You will be working with the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and, quite frankly, that means _more_ work on your plate. Ludovic Bagman is not at all reliable and his department's already in a shambles because of the World Cup. There will be a meeting today at one o'clock, and I am expecting you all to attend. Any questions?" he finished. He was met with silence.

"Good. You may go." He flapped his hand towards the door. Shaking slightly, the three of us turned around and began to exit. Before we could however, he stopped us. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. I need someone to write a report on cauldron thicknesses. Any volunteers?" Cecila looked at me and snorted lightly.

"Of course, Mr Crouch. I would be _honoured_," Percy smiled at him. What a smarmy little sod. Cauldron thicknesses? Who in their _right mind_ would want to do a report on bloody cauldron thicknesses? Percy Weasley, apparently; he was practically jumping up and down with glee.

"Very well, Weatherby. Report to Mabel Hopkirk in the Office of Law, all of you. Just through the door I came out of." Percy's smile slid off his face slightly, only to reappear in an instant.

"Thank you, Mr Crouch," Percy said as we stepped out of the door and closed it behind us.

Cecilia looked at me pointedly. "He's fast isn't he? We've been here for about fifteen minutes and we've all got jobs."

Percy shot her a disdainful look. "I don't know about you, but I had a job _before_ I got here this morning. And as for Mr. Crouch, I happen to think he takes a refreshingly _direct_ approach to work."

"You know what I mean," she looked at him, slightly shocked by his change of attitude. As he continued towards the other office, she looked at me. "Sweet Godric, is he always like this?"

I laughed and nodded. "Worse, usually. This is him in a _good_ mood." She smiled back.

"We'd better go after him. We don't want him signing on to do a wand flexibility presentation without us, do we?"

* * *

"Only Percy would _volunteer_ for something as idiotic as that." Oliver sipped his Firewhiskey, chuckling. It was getting late and the two of us had been sitting in the far corner of the Leaky Cauldron for about three hours.

"I know, right? He's insane, I swear. It's just to climb the career ladder as fast as he can." I pulled my Butterbeer towards me, taking another long gulp.

"'Course it is. So how did the meeting go? I'm jealous, El; that's so cool! The Triwizard Tournament! And we only missed it by a year."

"The meeting went really well, actually. Nick was there, so I'm assuming that's what he meant."

He looked at me quizzically. "What are you talking about? Who's Nick?"

"Nick Adams?"

"The old Head Boy? He's in Sports and Games?" I nodded in response. He stared at me for a second. "Oh, no."

"What?" I asked, feeling my cheeks becoming hot.

"You _like_ him, don't you? You like him like you liked Percy." He sniggered.

I whacked him in the arm. "Shut up, Wood. I do not like him like I liked Percy, alright?"

He blinked at me. "You like him." This time, it wasn't a question. My cheeks were on full-out inferno now, and I didn't like it. This was awkward. Oliver and I could usually talk about anything, but somehow _this_ had never made it into the conversation topics. And now I knew why. It was _weird_. Oliver was going slightly red too.

We sat for a few moments, Oliver staring at me, and me trying not to look at him. I cleared my throat. "How's training going?"

"Oh. Good. It's, erm, pretty good. Goldberg is thinking of retiring next year, so if they decide not to steal some other team's Keeper, I'm first up for the job."

"Oliver, that's great!" I cried, thumping the desk. His Firewhisky sloshed a bit and slopped onto the corner of his robes. He looked down and cocked an eyebrow at me. I grinned and pulled out my wand. "_Scourgify_."

"Thanks," he laughed. "But it isn't as great as it sounds. He'll only retire when the season ends, of course and I would have been playing for at least a year by then. That's usually when most subs go full anyway."

"'Most subs go full.'" I imitated, deepening my voice. "Look at you, speaking the lingo and everything. You're turning into a little Quidditch boy, Olliekins; I'm proud."

"That's why I play, Cootie-Wootie."

I glared at him. "Just to make me proud? I'm touched, Oliver, but not touched enough to let you call me that. So don't."

He smirked at me over the rim of his glass and drained it in one gulp. I followed suit, noticing that Tom was getting slightly annoyed with us.

"How are you getting home, Oliver? You'd better not be thinking about Apparating after all those Firewhiskies."

"Take a chill pill, man. I've only had one; I just took an insane amount of time to drink it. I'm flying anyway." he got up and reached for his cloak, laughing as he saw the expression on my face.

"A chill _pill_?"

"Muggle lingo, get with it, El-ster."

"_Never_ say _any_ of that _ever_ again." I laughed, grabbing my wand off the table and shoving it in my pocket. "No matter how much you want to impress a girl," I winked at him, "or a guy, it's just going to send them running far, _far_ away."

"A guy!" he spluttered, picking up his broom and brandishing it at me. "Why in Merlin's name would I want impress a guy? I'm not gay! I'm straight!"

"Really? But you've never had a girlfriend?"

"That's because you're so high maintenance, having a girlfriend would've sucked me dry." He laughed as we walked to the door. "And if you're using that as an argument," he pushed open the door, letting me out into the Muggle street first, "then I could ask you the same question, only I know you're straight, courtesy of old Perce." I stuck my tongue out at him.

"I was twelve; it was a lapse in judgement."

"Whatever, you two would have made some crazy babies, so I'm quite glad it didn't work out." he patted me on the head.

"Shut up, Oliver; or I'll tell your mother what really happened to her fire-breathing tulips."

Oliver paled. "Shutting up. When will I see you next, the England-Bulgaria match at the weekend?"

"I guess. Things are starting to get busy at work; we have a big meeting coming up next week with some of the trainers for the first Triwizard task. If the match gets longer than about four hours, I probably won't be able to stay for the while thing."

"You'll be free for the Final, won't you?" he asked worriedly.

"Oh yeah, they finished all the international stuff for that ages ago and anything else is so, you know, sensitive it goes straight to Crouch. I should be fine."

"Good. I'll see you then, El." he mounted his broom, checking to see if there were any Muggles watching; there weren't. Waving goodbye, he pushed off from the ground. I don't how long I stood there, staring at the sky like a gormless fool.

"Stargazing, are you, dear?" I jumped about ten feet into the air. A very old Muggle woman stood beside me, gazing into the sky. She shook her cane at the stars. "Mars is in line with Venus, see? That's something to think about, young one." she gave me a pointed look and hobbled off down the quiet street. Forget cheese-dreams, this was even stranger; I knew I shouldn't have sneaked a sip of Oliver's Firewhiskey. Shaking my head, I turned on my heel and disapparated with a crack.

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**Hope you enjoyed it! As always, the review button is just below this message! (A happy author makes for more frequent updates. Just saying) And a big, big thank you to N3rd-e. G3niUS, who betaed (betaed? You know what I mean**.**) this chappie!**


	4. Bump in the night

**(A/N) Right, okay. It's been a while, I'm sorry to everyone who had put this on their alerts. I was hoping to try update every week or at least every other week, but it didn't quite work out that way. Between exam, results and going on holiday, it's just been chaotic, but I promise it'll get better, bear with me... Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

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"IRELAND!" Oliver bellowed in my ear.

"Jesus, Ol!" I laughed. "They've already won, there's no need to take out what's left of my eardrums."

"What's a Jee-zuz?"

I grinned at him. "Never mind." We were walking back towards the campsite from the Quidditch stadium that had hosted the final, and by Gad it was fantastic. To be fair, I had always had a soft spot for Krum, who was currently at his awesome best. Like the hardcore English magical folk we were, the entire Coote clan had turned out in all their shamrock be-decked glory. There was quite a party going on behind me, led by my Uncle Mortimer and a gallon of what seemed to be neat alcohol. Dad had decided that Ritchie was too young to be staying up past three and watching his uncles get smashed, and that I should be the one to go ahead with him and get him to bed. Mr Wood, whose wife had insisted for seven years that I call Joe, had sent Oliver with me, presumably fearing for my safety in the dark.

"Ella darling, I think you need to go to bed too. You're getting even more delirious than Ritchie here, with your Jee-zoos."

"_Erin go bragh_." giggled my little brother.

"Right you are, Ritchie." Oliver smiled. "Hey, El, do you-"

Before he could finish, Ludo Bagman came sprinting up to us, red-faced and agitated.

"Er, it's Wood and Coote, isn't it?" he asked, pointing to the two of us. Oliver nodded, frowning. "Right, er, could you point me to where your dads are?" There was something wrong, I knew it. Ludo Bagman was never nervous and he certainly never stuttered.

"They're a couple of minutes behind us, but on the same path." Oliver replied, still frowning. "Why?" Bagman nodded his thanks and started to make his way up the path. "Why, sir?" Oliver called after him, but Bagman was out of earshot. I glanced up at Oliver.

"Ella?" Ritchie mumbled from my elbow. "Ella, what's going on?"

"I don't know, Rich. We'll find out when Dad gets back." Looking down at him, I realised how frightened he was. Putting my arm around his shoulders, I pulled him closer. "You saw all those little kids at the campsite with those wands, right? One them probably just blew up the loos or something." Ritchie nodded, but didn't look too convinced.

"The campsite manager's probably starting to get suspicious, that's all." Oliver said, nodding to himself.

No sooner had the words left his mouth that we saw people running in the opposite direction. A couple of hundred metres ahead of us, there were bangs, flashes of bright light and outbreaks of loud laughter.

"Crap," Oliver breathed. We looked at each other, slack-jawed. _What was going on?_

"Ella!" Ritchie whimpered. Following his eyeline, I saw what he was looking at and baulked.

"Oliver," I tugged at his sleeve. "Are those _people_ they've got suspended at the end of their wands?"

He paled at the sight. "It looks like the camp manager and his family."

"What? But they're Muggles..."

"Exactly. We'd better not stay here." he looked round wildly and his eyes settled on the woods. "Come on." He placed his hand on my back and pushed me towards the woods. "Ritchie, come _on_!"

Ritchie was frozen in horror, so I pulled him along by the arm. As we reached the edge of the trees, I realised something.

"Oliver, they're starting to look in the woods." I said. He turned to look at me, and then at the laughing group behind us and the trees around us.

He looked at me. "Cast a disillusionment charm on Ritchie and tell him to climb that tree over there. In the dark they won't notice; I'll do the same to you." It wasn't a question.

"And you?" I questioned.

"I'll cover for you if that's what it comes down to." His jaw was fixed, an Oliver-sign that this wasn't an issued to be debated. But that was sure as hell not happening.

"Like _hell_, Wood. I'm _not_ leaving you down here."

"I'll be fine, now go!"

I glared at him and turned to my little brother. The charm was placed and he scuttled up the tree. If looks could kill, the look on Oliver Wood's face would have reduced me to a small smoking pile of ashes.

We settled down behind a small shrub, clutching our wands tightly. Who knew, maybe we were over reacting to the situation, maybe it was just a couple of drunken hooligans, but something told me not to dismiss the look on Ludo Bagman's face and apparently Oliver had felt the same way. I had only been five when my Uncle Leonard's family had been murdered by the Death Eaters, but the war had caused memories to stick, and I hadn't forgotten how terrified my parents were that their completely mixed up blood would put them in the firing line.

"You should have gone with him." Oliver snapped.

"And miss all the action?" I snorted softly. The screams were getting louder now. "Do you know me at all?" I shifted slightly so that our upper arms were touching, somehow I felt safer that way.

"It's not safe." he said, dropping his voice.

"And what was the other option? If we all cast disillusionment charms on each other, we'd be wandering around lost until dawn."

"Which is why we wouldn't have cast one on me." he grumbled.

"Who stuck their wand up your arse?" I elbowed him in the ribs. "Honestly, it'll be fine, Ollie. You always go psycho when things get slightly out of your control."

"I do not!" he whispered, poking me back.

"Really? How many examples would you like me to recount from your three years as Quidditch captain?"

"Oh, please. If you can name even one, I'll-" We both froze as a twig snapped in the darkness some metres ahead of us. My hand grabbed Oliver's wrist and he placed his left hand on mine. Had they heard us?

"What are you doing there, Jugson? Get back 'ere!" A harsh voice snarled from further away.

"I thought I 'eard someone." The person who had stepped on the twig moved slightly and the moonlight reflected off a mask and sharp silver studs on the trimmings of a black dragon-hide jacket. The sight was terrifying, and in that moment I realised that this was not just some elaborate prank. Hoping that Ritchie wasn't too frightened, I tightened my grip on both Oliver and my wand.

"It was probably just a fox." The other voice was getting louder, and we heard the leaves on the ground rustling as the pair moved closer.

"Nah, I 'eard voices, didn't I?"

"Oh, shut up, you fool. Them voices are the ones in your 'ead!" The last sentence was said louder, presumably for the couple of others who chuckled at the joke.

"'e'll 'ave your 'ead if I'm right, 'e will." the first voice admonished.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Trussed up old windbag thinks 'e's the Dixy droppings just cos 'e holds the purse strings. 'e don't know the meanin' o' the word leadership."

We heard footfalls get further away, and I let myself let out a breath.

"That was close." I whispered.

"It was, my sweet. To think I almost missed finding a pretty little thing like you. _Lumos_." Blinding white light shone from a foot above us and the first guy came into view. He leered at me and bent forwards. "'Ello, precious."

"_Expelliarmus_!" cried Oliver, jumping up and pulling me up with him. The guy, Jugson, put up a shield charm and deflected it easily.

"What was that, son? Second year Charms? 'Ere, Rowle, I found them kiddies!" Jugson chuckled. Behind him, there was a crunching sound as Rowle came into view.

He grinned at us, showing gaps in his brown teeth. "Well, well, well. What have we here? Were you 'iding from us?" He disarmed Oliver with a wave of his wand.

Jugson giggled. "There's no need to hide from Uncle Jugson and Uncle Rowle, is there? We're nice guys, we are."

Rowle's expression changed as he dodged my Stunning spell. "You're a feisty one, aren't you, my sweet? Is this your _boyfriend_? _Petrificus Totalus_." He put the full Body-Bind charm on me and chuckled. "'Ere, Jugson, they're just kiddies. I'll feel bad if we use spells they don't know."

"Yeah," Jugson sniggered. "How about this one?" he levitated Oliver and sent him flying head first into the nearest tree. There was a sickening crunching noise, and Oliver fell at the base of the tree, a trickle of blood making its way from his forehead to the tip of his nose. My heart rate quickened, and I felt bile rising up in my throat.

"Aw, darlin', you crying? Rowle cooed as he came closer to me. "Did you _love_ 'im?"

"It's all right, pumpkin." Jugson said, leering. "You can love _us_ instead."

This was it. I was going to die. Oliver was probably half there already and that thought was enough to make me start sobbing. Hopefully Ritchie would be fine. He would have to be.

Suddenly, there was a flash of bright red light, and Jugson's eyes widened as he collapsed at my feet. Rowle turned around and his wand shot out in front of him. "Who's there?" he called turning his head from side to side. "Who's there? Show yourselves."

"Okay," came the reply. A figure stepped out of the shadows and shot another Stunner at Rowle, who was knocked back with the force. "_Voila_." It was Nick, and honestly, I had never been so happy to see a familiar face.

"Is anyone there?" he called, looking towards me. It was then that I realised I was still Body-Bound and in the shadows. He must have heard them talking to someone, but he couldn't see who it was. I grunted as I tried to move out of the shadows, and the slight motion forwards caused me to topple over and fall face first at his feet.

"Oh, Merlin." He pressed his wand tip to the base of my neck and muttered the counter-curse. Rolling me over, he grinned. "Hello, Miss Coote. Should have known it was you; only you would keep throwing yourself at me every time we met."

"Nick," I gasped, sitting up. "Oliver!"

"Who?" he frowned.

"Ol-Oliver," I stuttered, scrambling up. I stumbled over to him and dropped to my knees. "Oliver?"

Nick sat down beside me. "_Rennervate_." He whispered, pointing his wand at him. Oliver groaned and twitched slightly. An eyelid opened slightly and he looked at me before closing it again.

"He's concussed." I said, relaxing a bit. "He was just knocked out hard." Nick stood up and levitated him gently, while I tried not to concentrate on how slack Oliver's body was in the air.

"He'll be fine," said Nick. "There are about twenty Medi-witches on call about a minute away."

* * *

Ten minutes later, I was sitting next to Oliver, who was holding an ice pack to his head. Ritchie was resting his head on my shoulder with his eyes closed.

"I can't believe it," he said, indicating to the giant skull hanging high up in the air. "I _can't_ be them, can it?"

I shrugged. "It might not actually be them. It might just be some idiots who decided to create chaos."

"I thought you had to be one to know the incantation though, although there have been some Death Eaters who never even went to Azkaban."

He shrugged and got up to his feet gingerly. "Mum's here, crying. I'd better go calm her down." He smiled.

"You do that. See you later." I smiled back. I sat there for a while, listening to Ritchie snore on my shoulder. My dad and brothers had come back, seen that we were okay and then gone back to help, leaving me to keep an eye on the youngest, as usual. I yawned loudly.

"Catching flies?" Nick asked as he sat down opposite me. "Is Wood alright?"

I nodded. "Thanks."

"Thanks for saving him or you?"

"Both." I smiled. "I owe you one."

"You do, don't you?" Nick twirled his wand between his fingers. "Suppose I'm your knight in shining armour, what would I get then?"

"You're _not_ getting a kiss, _or_ my hand in marriage." I replied warily. _As much as would like both_, I mentally added. The man was _gorgeous_.

"Fair enough," he chuckled. "How about a date instead?" he lifted his head to look me straight in the eyes.

"That doesn't sound too bad," I said, trying to fight off a massive grin.

He grin grew wider. "I'm glad." He got to his feet slowly. "I'll owl you, shall I?"

I nodded. "Sure."

"Okay, yeah." He said. "I'm going to go now."

"Okay," I said, biting my lower lip.

"Bye."

"Bye," I sighed. _Oh, yeah! I had a date!_ As I happy-danced in my head, Ritchie moved his head slightly on my shoulder and let out a soft snort.

"What a _cute_ little moment that was," he muttered.

I poked him in the ribs. "You were supposed to be asleep."

"Well, I wasn't, and I regret that, because I think I spewed out a bit of my dinner." He opened his mouth and mimed retching.

"Shut it."

"I will now," he smiled, closing his eyes again. "But wait 'til Jules finds out that you're going on a date with his best mate."

_Oh, bugger_.

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**Review, please? :)**


	5. Kickstart

**(A/N) Again, a bit short, but at least it was quicker? This is more of a filler, but embedded in there is some important information... Anyway, hope you enjoy. Nothing belongs to me, of course. Please review? (A special thanks to Blackened Silver, who I think forgot to sign in, to getting me off my arse and finishing this chapter, so thank you. :) This is dedicated to you and to the 23 people who have this story on alerts and the 8 who have this on their favourites.) **

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Being at home on a permanent basis had its advantages. The first and most important of which I was sat it front of at the moment: the television. I sighed, my fingers curling around a steaming mug of hot chocolate. There was nothing better than a sofa, some mindless soap opera and hot chocolate with marshmallows after a crazy day at work. Mmm.

Being at home also had its shortcomings, of course. I'd honestly forgotten how many brothers I had those were able to Apparate in and out of the house without a problem, and I was realising this fast. Jules couldn't cook and his girlfriend, Fran, was off on some tournament to Prague, so he was home for dinner practically everyday. Rob's head had popped up in the fireplace at least six times this week, giving Dad repeated heart attacks, and Henry, of course, was still firmly ensconced at home. Home felt like King's Cross. And here I was thinking Mum and Dad were lonely after we left for Hogwarts. The only ones who hadn't dropped by in a while were Jem and Lea, but Mum had picked up on this, and they were due over for dinner any minute.

I yawned as I heard the fireplace in the next room roar and felt around for the remote to switch off the television.

"Ella? That you?"

"Hey Jem." I called. He stuck his head around the door and grinned. "How's tricks, baby sister?" Dropping a kiss on my forehead, he asked, "Where are the future grandparents?"

"Kitchen, I think. Mum's making lasagne and pumpkin stew."

He pulled a face. "Eugh. Why the stew? She knows I hate it."

"It's Lea's favourite food." I shrugged. "I think the woman carrying her grandchild takes a bit more precedence than her firstborn son _this_ time round."

"Great," he groaned. "Last time we were here Mum filled one of those massive Tupperware things Grandma gave her to the brim and we were eating it with everything for _weeks_. Lea seems to think that it's a rule that if she wants to eat something, I'd better eat it and love it too. I can't even _say_ anything 'cos she's pregnant, and I'm scared she'll kill me if I do."

"You think this is _fun_, Jeremy?" screeched an irate voice from the next room. I laughed as Jem winced. "Jeremy, huh? Someone is not happy."

"Ella!" Lea held out her arms as she came into view. To be fair, that's a slight lie. Her belly came into view before she did and she waddled over for a hug.

"Don't mention how big she is," he whispered in my ear, and then, so she could hear, "I'll go look for Mum and Dad."

Lea's quite a bit shorter than me and my little niece/nephew didn't help matters, so I was doubled over as I hugged her. "I missed you," she sobbed. I was slightly confused. She may have known me from when I was a toddler, but she wasn't usually the hugging type and to _miss_ me? Really? I put it down to hormone imbalance.

Pulling back she smiled. "Come on," she grabbed my arm and started pulling me to the kitchen. "We went to the Mid-Witch yesterday and we have news." she waggled her eyebrows at me.

"News? As in the gen-?" I was cut off by a screech. My mother had flung herself across the room at Lea and the two women stood clutching each other for few moments. Mum pulled back, mumbled 'You're showing', let out a sob and pulled her back in again. Dad shuffled around at the side with his son, looking awkward.

"Henry's got an emergency at work, he's sorry he can't make it," he offered. Jem nodded.

"We've got some news." Lea pulled away from Mum. "We went to the Mid-witch yesterday and they took a look. I know I said that i wanted to wait ti find out what it was, but i couldn't." She smiled at her husband and bit her lip. "It's a girl."

Mum let out another sob and blew into a tissue that Dad offered her. "That's wonderful, my darlings."

"It's also a boy."

You could have heard a pin drop. Mum was frozen, tissue clutched to her face, leaning on my father. Dad looked shell-shocked. And as for me, well, surprise is putting it very mildly.

"Can that even happen?" choked out Dad.

"'Course it can," Jem laughed.

"At the same time?" he looked really worried now.

"Dad, you _do_ realise there are _two_ babies?" Lea cut in, smirking slightly. "One being a girl and the other a boy?" she nodded encouragingly.

Dad went crimson. "Yes, yes, of course. Congratulations." The penny dropped and Jem and I snorted.

"Congratulations!" I yelled throwing an arm around each of them and pulling them in by the neck. Which proved to be slightly difficult considering my brother was almost a full foot taller than his wife.

Mum still hadn't said anything. She stood at the side, her saucer-wide eyes flicking from Jem to Lea to her abdomen.

"What are you talking about?" she finally got out, the pitch of her voice shooting up. "_Twins_?"

Lea burst out laughing as she was pulled into another bone-crushing hug. "Yes, a boy and a girl."

"Oh, my babies." Mum sniffed. "And my grandbabies." She dabbed her eyes with the tissue and straightened up. "I'll make you some extra pumpkin stew, Lea, since you're eating for three. Jem, be a dear and pass me that Tupperware box."

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I was ecstatic. I had a niece and a nephew. I would have happy-danced if that wouldn't have caused Dad to put me in St Mungo's psycho ward in a heartbeat. Oh, sorry, I wasn't supposed to call it that now that I was an employee of the Ministry. I meant St Mungo's Janus Thickley Spell Damage Ward. Of course.

Cee was practically jumping up and down when I told her. She found the whole childhood-best-friend-to-crush-to-love-of-life scenario with Jem and Lea too good to be true and gushed at the mention of them.

Was it bad that I hadn't yet told my mother I had a date, but my colleague, who I'd known for all of a month and a bit, knew the whole story? Oh well, she was probably the closest friend I'd had who was remotely interested in giggling over guys with, so that's just what I was going to do.

We had had more than enough to cope with recently. The chaos at the World Cup had caused problems, and then there was the Horntail fiasco in which Crouch was torn between the Ministry's overzealous health and safety regulations and the fact that contestants had to be physically challenged and intimidated. There was Percy Weasley, who thankfully wasn't actually with us all day due to Crouch taking a liking to him. Unfortunately, this gave him the authority to lord it over us, not that he would have needed a reason in the first place of course. And then there was Barnaby Fletcher, our joint secretary, who reckoned he was Merlin's gift to witches. He wasn't, unless the word 'gift' is synonymous to the word 'pest'.

But I digress. My point had been that during the Hungarian Horntail saga, we were in meetings with dragon keepers from the sanctuary in Romania on a regular basis, and we just so happened to meet Charlie Weasley. Who now happened to be Cee's boyfriend. Since then, gossip had become the main focal point of our lunch hour. I wasn't proud of it, but hey, if I had a good girl friend, I was going to make the most of it.

She was sitting at her desk, her feet propped up and a small bag of sandwiches on her lap.

"Cream cheese and salmon? Or hummus salad on malt bread?" she asked as she rifled through the bag. "One of each?"

I nodded, walking over. "Thanks." I took a big bite of the cream cheese sandwich. "You make the best sandwiches."

"Your mum's a dab hand at them too," she laughed. She bit her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. "Barnaby asked me out again today."

I snorted. "Is he alternating the days he asks us or something?"

"Statistically, the more times he asks, the more likely he is to get one of us to accept."

"Realistically, the more times he asks, the more he pisses us off."

She grinned. "True that, though I'm sure he means well."

"Who means well?" I craned my neck to see who was at the door. I grinned when I saw Oliver, and turned around on my perch on Cee's desk to face him.

"Afternoon, Woodster,"

"Hey, Oliver,"

He lifted his hand up in greeting and leant against the doorframe. "So what's the gossip, ladies?"

"Oliver, what are you doing here?" I asked. "I thought you had training?"

He shrugged. "I needed to hand in some of my International Sporting Border Clearance forms in, and Blundell gave me the evening off."

"Nice one," I nodded, taking another bite. "Are you going over to your parents' house then? Get a proper meal."

"I can cook, you know. Not like you. Your repertoire barely extends to that sandwich you've got in your mouth."

Cee chuckled. "That was me, actually." Oliver grinned at her. "See?" he said.

I scoffed. "I've tasted your cooking, if you can call it that."

"Excuse me?" he eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

"Would you like me to tell Cee here the story of the pasta you forgot to cook or the sunken fairy cakes you made for your parents' anniversary?"

"Neither." He grinned at me sheepishly.

"So I ask again: are you going over to your parents' house? 'Cos I think Mum has some clippings and things that your mum wanted to see. I can owl her if you like?"

He glanced at me. "I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Three Broomsticks to grab a bite, actually."

"Oh," I said.

"Is that okay?" he asked, his eyebrow cocking slightly.

"Yeah, sure. Fine," I said. "Eight at the usual place?"

He nodded. "See you then. I have to go now, couple of things to pick up from Diagon Alley. I just came to ask that, actually. Bye, Diggory!"

Cee nodded back and looked at me pointedly after he closed the door behind him.

"What?"

"Well. _that_ wasn't awkward _at all_, was it?" she said, rolling her eyes to indicate that it clearly was.

"What are talking about?"

She eyeballed me. "Have you even told him about Nick?"

"What about Nick?" I was confused. What did that have anything to do with anything?

"Does Oliver know about your date?" she pressed.

"Erm, no? I fail to see why he would care." I said, taking the last bite.

She rolled her eyes at me.

"_What_?"

"Never mind," she sighed. Her hand went into the brown bag again as she selected another sandwich.

"Pass us one." She handed me another triangle and I munched on it happily. I loved malt bread. "Tho, shup whizz oon zargely?"

"Pardon?"

"Sorry," I laughed at the horrified look on your face. "What's up with you and Charlie?"

She looked at me for a moment without blinking. "Good, he's coming to England, actually."

"Yeah? For what?"

"Dragon delivery. It was supposed to be Scothron," I nodded, that's what I had heard. "But Charlie managed to find a way." She blushed.

"Let's not talk about Charlie anymore, shall we?" she smiled. "Blushing doesn't suit me."

I laughed. "It's sweet."

"Let's talk about the Big Date." Now it was my turn to blush. "What are you planning to wear?"

"Jeans?" I shrugged. "We're going to some Muggle place."

"_Jeans_?" she shrieked.

"I mean a dress?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Do you even _own _a dress?"

"No?"

There was groan and a bang as her head hit the table. Suddenly, her head shot up again and her eyes gleamed. "Okay, Ella, we're going shopping."

_Bugger_.

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**Please review? (Again) It's such a good feeling when I get an email :) Plus, it motivates me to write faster...**


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